The Wrath of Heroes (A Requiem for Heroes Book 2) by David Benem

Author:David Benem [Benem, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-18T22:00:00+00:00

The sun had dipped to the far horizon by the time they made their way to Zyn’s outskirts, the road now a crowded avenue of chalky bricks. The city’s edge seemed a confusing jumble of tight streets and squat structures of yellow stone and animal hides. The hot air hung thick with the odor of pack animals and spiced oils. Voices called out in harsh Arranese accents, shopkeepers drawing attention to their wares and mothers scolding unruly children.

A strange beast honked beside them, a heavy-tusked and white-maned thing atop which sat a sinewy Arranese man holding a longbow. Bale drew his hood down to just above his eyes and cowered low against the wagon’s side.

The other wayfarers about them were mostly Arranese, sharp-featured with skin bronzed from lives spent upon the sun-beaten steppe. There were smatterings of foreigners, though, including Khaldisian traders and a few small groups of black-skinned Harkanians—legendary warriors from across the sea. Much to Bale’s relief, none regarded them with particular suspicion as they sat in the wagon’s bed.

They came within sight of the wall, a mass of bleached stone etched with geometric patterns. At the arched gate stood a spear-wielding group of guards interrogating those trying to enter the city. Near the guards loomed another man, robed in white, seeming to preside over the process.

Bale began to sense a wrongness about the place, some vague, creeping haunt at the edges of his mind. They rode now in the shade cast by the great spire of the Spider King and the darkness it splayed upon the road felt oppressive. Bale’s eyes wandered to the structure’s surface and he saw strange glyphs scratched into the jet-black stone. A sick chill slithered up his spine as he looked upon them.

Alisa drew near him. “You feel it, don’t you?” she whispered. “All who serve the Sentinels can.”

“What is it?” he groaned, trying to shrug off the ill feeling.

“Need I tell you?” she asked, eyes wide with meaning. “We’ll need to leave the caravan soon. We risk great peril if we are on these streets when night falls. Hide your fear lest it betray us.”

He shook his head and tucked strands of long, graying hair back within his hood and behind his ears.

Lorra seized his hand and pulled him close. “Tell me, Bale.”

He looked to her, seeing the worry upon her face. “Remember the wall of shadows on the steppe?” he whispered. “This city is home to more of such things. We must find shelter before darkness falls, or…”

“Or what? Will they find us? Will they take us to that black tower just like those children she spoke of?” Lorra asked.

Bale rubbed his hands together, afraid of giving voice to what he reckoned was the truthful answer.

Lorra stared at him, seeming to await a response.

His shoulders sagged. “We must follow Alisa’s guidance. We should be safe so long as we do.”

Lorra’s hard features crinkled in a scowl and she looked ahead. “And who is he?” she said, gesturing. “The man in

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